Dick was by no means a pessimist. In fact, by all definitions of the word he was an optimist through and through, but even he couldn't help but feel like something was about to go horribly wrong.

Since joining the JLA Dick had been deployed on multiple missions, all of which had gone perfectly, without a hitch.

Dick was a superhero, heck, he'd been a superhero for a while now, and he knew that that just wasn't how the world worked. You don't just get sold off to a global superhero organization by your psychotic brother only to sing kum ba ya for the rest of your life.

Something was about to happen, something big, and Dick couldn't stop himself from being paranoid about it.

"You're going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep on pacing like that," Clark said to Dick as he watched him continue to pace back and forth.

Dick stopped. "You and I both know that it'd take a lot more pacing than this to wear through solid concrete," he said, folding his arms over his chest.

"You're right, but you've been pacing for at least 30 minutes. What's up?" Clark asked, resting a hand on Dick's shoulder.

Dick sighed. He'd gotten awfully close to Clark since joining the JLA. "It just feels like things have been too easy recently... all these perfect missions, even I know that's not how things work all the time. I... I just can't help but feel like there's something big coming," Dick confessed.

Superman chuckled. "Nightwing, you have a very valid point, but you have to remember that crime isn't always consistent, sometimes there are a few days, maybe even a few weeks were nothing big enough for the Justice League needs dealing with. And besides, we have a team of highly trained superheroes, our missions generally don't go too horribly wrong," he reassured.

"I guess you're right... It's stupid for me to be worrying about something like that... I guess I should just be glad that we're having so much success," Dick said with a sigh. "Well, I guess I'm gonna head back to the Blüd... I still have my own patrol tonight."

"See you tomorrow," Clark called as Dick walked to the zeta tubes.

"What's tomorrow?" Dick asked, turning back around.

"We have a meeting with the League... at least everyone who's available. Batman had something he wanted to talk to us about," Clark explained.

"Of course Batman has something he wants to lecture us all on," Dick said, his mood suddenly souring. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then. The meeting's at the usual time right?" He asked.

"Yep," Clark replied with a wave.

"Great," Dick muttered as he entered the zeta tubes.

—

Dick sat with his legs dangling over the edge of his apartment building. The night had been unusually quiet, with only a few muggings here and there. It was about the time when he'd usually head back inside to get some rest, but for some reason he didn't quite feel like going inside just yet, so he simply sat there and let the gentle hum of the city around him slowly lull him to sleep.

—

Dick awoke to the sound of harsh laughter.

"Falling asleep on the job?" Jason asked as he stepped into view.

Dick jumped to his feet. "Red Hood," he said, not sounding nearly as threatening as he would've liked.

"Ya ya ya, I'm Red Hood, you're Nightwing... That's old news," Jason said raising one of his guns to point at Dick's face.

"Jason," Dick said. "You don't want to do this."

"Oh I think I do," Jason snarled. "See, you know my identity, which makes you a threat... I'm here to make sure you don't pass that information on to anyone else."

Before Jason could take the shot, Dick threw a wing-ding and knocked the gun from his hand.

Jason growled and pulled out another gun. "Not funny," he said.

"That's too bad you think that, I pride myself on my witty quips," Dick replied, lunging at Jason with his escrima sticks out.

Jason blocked Dick's blows with his left forearm while trying to get a good shot with his gun. He cursed, Dick was too close for him to use his gun effectively... well, effectively for shooting...

The next time Dick lunged, Jason dodged, bringing the butt of his gun down as hard as he could on the back of Dick's head.

Dick stumbled and fell to the ground, dazed from the hard hit.

Jason quickly planted a heavy, booted foot on Dick's chest and lifted his pistol to once again be pointed at Dick's head.

"Jay," Dick wheezed, his eyesight blurring slightly.

"Don't call me that," Jason hissed, flicking off the safety on his gun and resting his finger on the trigger.

"P...please," Dick said, barely being able to breathe because of the pressure Jason was putting on his chest. He could see the slight hesitation in Jason's movements, and before his brother could make up his mind to kill him, Dick reached up and pulled his blue domino mask from his face.

Jason gasped and stumbled back, "Dick..." he whispered.

Dick took gasping breaths of air and turned onto his side, resting his throbbing head on his forearm. "Nngh, Jason, you hit me so hard," He muttered, bringing one hand up to press on the back of his head, and closing his eyes to stop the world from spinning.

"I... I didn't know... I'm... I'm sorry," Jason said putting his gun back in its holster and kneeling by Dick's side.

There was blood seeping through the hand Dick had pressed over the back of his head, and guilt rose in Jason's chest.

"Jay... 's alright," Dick mumbled, his eyes fluttering closed.

"S-stay awake," Jason said, shaking Dick's shoulder. "You need some medical attention."

"I have a hard head," Dick mumbled.

"Where's your apartment? Your head needs to be wrapped," Jason said urgently, not liking the size of the puddle of blood that was pooling under Dick's head.

"Maybe ya shoulda thought of that before ya smacked me..." Dick slurred.

"Well dead men generally don't need to worry about head injuries," Jason said, shaking Dick's shoulder again. "Dickie, where's your apartment?"

"Mmmm? 'S the top floor of this building."

Jason breathed a sigh of relief, pressing Dick's domino mask back over his eyes before carrying him into his apartment.

Dick groaned when Jason set him down on the kitchen floor, giving him a towel and telling him to hold it to his head while he looked for some actual medical equipment.

Jason ran through the house, looking for the bathroom, which he assumed would have some sort of medical equipment. He threw open cabinets and drawers until he found a small box labeled first aid.

When Jason returned to Dick's side, his brother's eyes were closed, and his hand was limply resting over the blood-soaked towel on his head.

Jason cursed under his breath. He removed the towel and gasped when he saw what was underneath... yep, that was definitely skull...

Blood was soaking into Jason's pants as he riffled through Dick's first aid kit, looking for anything that would help... "Idiot," Jason muttered. Dick didn't even have suture material in his kit, let alone the medical staples Jason had been looking for.

Jason grabbed more towels from a nearby drawer and pressed them onto the wound, wrapping them in place with some self adhesive tape. He needed to get Dick to help quickly...

"Scan for zeta-beam radiation," Jason instructed the computer in his helmet.

"Location found," a robotic voice announced to Jason through his helmet's internal speakers.

"Great," Jason said, scooping Dick's unresponsive body into his arms and jumping out the window.